廣弘明集 23.41

23.41

法師諱智稱。其先日某郡某氏。挹汾澮之清源。稟河山之秀質。蓄靈因於上業。成慧性於閻浮。直哉惟清爰初夙備。溫良恭儉體以得之。然天韻真確。含章隱曜。沈漸人群。莫能測其遠邇。蓋由徑寸之華韜光濬壑。盈尺之寶未剖聯城。監觀者罔識其巨麗。逖聽者弗得其鴻名。羈束戎旅俛起阡陌。年登三十。始覽眾經。退而歎曰。百年倏忽功名為重。名不常居功難與必。且吉凶悔吝孔書已驗。變化起伏歷聖來稱。安知崢嶸之外寥廓之表。籠括幽顯大援無邊者哉。彼有師焉。吾知歸矣。遂乃長揖五忍斂衽四依。挫銳解紛於是乎盡。宋大明中。益部有印禪師者。苦節洞觀欝為帝師。上人聞風自託一面盡禮。印公言歸庸蜀。乃携手同舟。以宋泰始元年出家於玉壘。誠感人天信貫金石。直心波若高步道場。既而敬業承師就賢辯志。遨遊九部馳騁三乘。摩羅之所宣譯。龍王之所韜祕。雖且受持諷誦。然未取以為宗。常謂攝心者迹。迹密則心檢。弘道者行。行密則道存。安上治人莫先乎禮。閑邪遷善莫尚乎律。可以驅車火宅翻飛苦海。瞻三途而勿踐。歷萬劫而不衰者。其毘尼之謂歟。乃簡棄枝葉積思根本。頓轡洗心以為己任。於是曳錫踽步千里遊學。擁經持鉢百舍不休。西望荊山南過澧浦。周流華夏博採奇聞。土木形骸琬琰心識。靡高不仰。無堅不攻。寢之所安席不及煖。思之所至食不遑飡。入道三年從師四講。教逸功倍而業盛經明。每稱道不墜地。人各有美。宣尼之學何詎常師。于時具隱二上人。先輩高流鳳鳴西楚。多寶穎律師洽聞溫故翰起東都法師之在江陵也。稟具隱為周援。及還京雒以穎公為益友。皆權衡殿最言刈菁華。捨稊稗而膳稻梁。會鹽梅而成鼎飪。其理練其旨深。膚受末學莫能踵武。以泰始六年。初講十誦於震澤。闡揚事相咫尺神道。高談出雲漢。精義入無間。八萬威儀怡然理暢。五部章句渙爾同波。由是後進知宗先達改觀。輝光令問於斯籍甚。法師應不擇方行有餘力。清言終日而事在其中。立栖雲於具區。營延祚於建業。令不待嚴房櫳肅靜。役不加迅棟宇駢羅。自方等來儀。變胡為漢。鴻才鉅學連軸比肩。法華維摩之家。往往間出。涅槃成實之唱。處處聚徒。而律藏憲章於時最寡。振裘持領允屬當仁。若夫淵源浩汗。故老之所迴惑。峻阻隱複。前修之所解駕。皆剖析豪釐粉散膠結。鉤深致遠獨悟胸懷。故能反戶之南彎弓之北。尋聲赴響萬里而至。門人歲益經緯日新。坐高堂而延四眾。轉法輪而朝同業者。二十有餘載君子謂此道於是乎中興。絕慶弔屏流俗。朱門華屋靡所經過。齊竟陵文宣王顧輕千乘虛心八解。嘗請法師講於邸寺。既許以降德。或謂宜修賓主。法師笑而答曰。我則未暇。及正位函丈始交涼燠。時法筵廣置髦士如林。主譽既馳客容多猛。發題命篇疑難鋒出。法師應變如響若不留聽。囿辯者土崩。負強者折角。莫不遷延徙靡亡本失支。觀聽之流稱為盛集。法師性本剛克而能悅以待。問發言盈庭曾無忤色。虛己博約咸竭厥才。依止疎附訓之如一。少壯居家孝子惟友。脫屣四攝愛著兩忘。親黨書介封而不發。內恕哀慼抑而不臨。常曰。道俗異故優陀親承音旨寧習其言而忽其教。煩惱呴濡蕭然頓遣。法師之於十誦也。始自吳興迄于建業四十有餘講。撰義記八篇。約言示制。學者傳述。以為妙絕古今。春秋七十有二。齊永元三年。遷神于建康縣之安樂寺。僧尼殷赴若喪昆姊。諒不言之信不召之感者云。若夫居敬行簡喜慍不形於色。知人善誘甄藻罔遺。於時臨財廉取予義。明允方大處變不渝。汪汪焉堂堂焉。渤碣河華不能充其量。蓋淨行之儀表。息心之軌則歟。弟子某等感梁木之既摧。慟德音之永閟。俾陳信而有徵。庶流芳而無愧。

The Dharma master's taboo name was Zhicheng. His ancestors were of a certain clan from a certain commandery. He partook of the clear sources of the Fen and Kuai rivers and was endowed with the refined substance of the rivers and mountains. He accumulated spiritual causes through supreme deeds, and perfected his wise nature in Jambudvīpa. Upright indeed was his purity, prepared early from his beginnings; by embodying warm geniality, respectfulness, and frugality, he obtained it. Yet his natural resonance was authentic and resolute; concealing his brilliance and hiding his radiance, he sank unnoticed among the common throng, none being able to fathom his depths or breadth. This was because a flower only an inch across conceals its light within a deep ravine, and a treasure a foot wide has not yet been split from its uncut jade worth cities. Those who glanced upon him failed to recognise his grand magnificence, and those listening from afar could not hear of his vast fame. Constrained in military service, he bowed his head and arose from the paths between the fields. Reaching the age of thirty, he began reading the various sūtras. Drawing back, he sighed: 'A hundred years pass in an instant, yet people value merit and fame. Fame does not abide forever, and merit is difficult to secure. Moreover, good fortune and ill, regret and remorse have already been verified in the writings of Confucius; transformations, rises and falls have been declared by successive sages. How could they know what lies beyond the towering heights and open emptiness—that which encompasses the hidden and manifest and provides boundless succour? There is a Teacher over there; I know where to take refuge!' Thereupon he made a deep bow to the five patiences, respectfully gathered his robes before the four reliances, and blunted his sharpness and resolved his tangles until they were utterly exhausted. During the Daming era of the Song dynasty, there was in the Yibu region a Dhyāna master Yin, whose austere discipline and penetrating contemplation made him renowned as an Imperial Preceptor. Hearing of his renown, the Venerable one entrusted himself to him, showing the utmost propriety at their very first meeting. When Master Yin spoke of returning to Shu, they joined hands and shared the same boat. In the first year of the Taishe era of Song, he went forth from household life at Mount Yulei. His sincerity moved devas and humans; his faith penetrated metal and stone. With an upright mind and prajñā, he strode proudly in the bodhimaṇḍa. Soon after, he revered his vocation and received instruction from his teacher, approaching the virtuous to debate his aspirations. He wandered through the nine classes of scriptures and galloped across the three vehicles. What was translated and expounded by Kumārajīva, and what was concealed in secret by the Nāga King—though he received, upheld, recited, and chanted them, he did not adopt them as his main school. He often said: 'That which collects the mind is trace; when traces are rigorous, the mind is restrained. That which propagates the Way is conduct; when conduct is rigorous, the Way abides. For bringing peace to superiors and governing the people, nothing takes precedence over propriety; for checking depravity and turning toward goodness, nothing surpasses the vinaya. That which can drive the chariot out of the burning house and soar across the ocean of suffering, look upon the three bad destinies without treading them, and pass through myriad kalpas without decline—is it not indeed the vinaya?' Thereupon he discarded the branches and leaves, and concentrated his thoughts upon the root. Reining in his horses and cleansing his mind, he made this his own task. Then, dragging his tin staff and walking alone, he travelled a thousand miles in pursuit of learning. Clasping sūtras and holding his alms-bowl, he rested not even through a hundred stages. Looking westward toward Mount Jing, and southward crossing the shores of the Li, he circulated through China, widely collecting extraordinary teachings. With a body like clay and wood, but a mind of fine jade, there was no height he did not gaze up to, no hardness he did not assault. Where he rested to sleep, his mat did not even become warm; where his thoughts were directed, he had no time to eat. After three years in the Way, he attended four lectures under his master. His studies were effortless and his achievements redoubled; his accomplishments flourished, and his understanding of the sūtras was bright. He often declared: 'The Way has not fallen to the ground; each person has their own excellence. How could Confucius' learning have had a permanent teacher?' At that time, the two Venerables Ju and Yin were seniors of exalted calibre, singing like phoenixes in Western Chu. Vinaya Master Ying of Duobao possessed comprehensive learning, reviewed the ancient, and rose up like an eagle in the Eastern Capital. When the Dharma master was in Jiangling, he relied on Ju and Yin as comprehensive supports; when he returned to the capital Luoyang, he took Master Ying as a beneficial friend. They weighed the best and worst, harvesting the finest cream of words. They cast away tares and fed on fine rice and grain, blending salt and plum to season the tripod cauldron. Their principles were refined, their imports deep; superficial later scholars could not follow in their footsteps. In the sixth year of the Taishi era, he first lectured on the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya at Zhenze. Expounding upon practical aspects, he brought the divine path within a cubit's reach. His exalted discourse surpassed the clouds and the Milky Way; his subtle subtleties penetrated the gapless realms. The eighty thousand dignified manners flowed pleasantly with clear principles, and the passages of the five sects dispersed like harmonious ripples. From this, junior students came to know the doctrine, and senior masters changed their views; his radiant repute and fine renown were exceptionally widespread. The Dharma master did not select places when responding to calls, and always acted with surplus strength. Though engaging in pure conversation all day, the practical affairs were accomplished within it. He established Qiyun at Juqu and built Yanzuo in Jianye. Commands did not await severe enforcement for rooms and screens to be solemn and quiet; labour did not need to be hastened for ridgepoles and eaves to line up side by side. Ever since the Mahāyāna scriptures arrived, transforming foreign works into Chinese, vast talents and great scholars stood shoulder to shoulder like aligned cart axles. Traditions of the Lotus and Vimalakīrti emerged from time to time; reciters of the Nirvāṇa and Tattvasiddhi gathered disciples everywhere. Yet regulations and standards of the Vinaya-piṭaka were rarest at that time. Shaking the fur coat and holding its collar truly fell to this worthy man. Matters of vast and profound origins, over which elders were bewildered, and steep, hidden, complex obstacles, before which former cultivators unyoked their carriages—he dissected them to the hair's breadth and pulverised what was cemented together; plumbing depths and reaching the distant, he comprehended them solely in his own heart. Hence, those south of the door and those bending their bows to the north followed the voice and responded to the echo, arriving from ten thousand miles away. His disciples increased year by year, and his principles were renewed day by day. Sitting in the high hall to welcome the four assemblies and turning the wheel of the Dharma so that his peers came to pay homage, he continued for more than twenty years; gentlemen praised this, saying that this Path was revived by him. He severed congratulations and condolences, and kept clear of worldly customs; through red gates and ornate mansions he never passed. King Wenxuan of Jingling of the Qi, regarding a realm of a thousand chariots lightly and humbling his mind before the eight liberations, once invited the Dharma master to lecture at his palace temple. Once he granted the prince's request to descend in virtue, someone suggested that the courtesies of host and guest ought to be cultivated. The Dharma master smiled and replied: 'I have no leisure for that.' When he took his rightful seat on the lecturer's platform and the initial polite greetings were exchanged, the Dharma gathering was vastly arranged, with distinguished scholars gathered like a forest. The host's repute had already spread, and the visitors appeared exceedingly ferocious. As the title was announced and the chapter introduced, difficult objections sprang up like blades. The Dharma master responded to changes like an echo, as though not even taking time to pause and listen. Those who entrenched themselves in eloquence crumbled like earth; those who relied on their strength broke their horns. None failed to waver, collapse, and lose their roots and branches. The observers and listeners acclaimed it as a magnificent gathering. The Dharma master's nature was originally firm and resolute, yet he greeted inquiries with joy; when questions filled the hall, he never showed a look of offence. Humbling himself with broad concision, all exhausted their talents; whether they were close disciples or distant followers, he instructed them alike. In his youth when living at home, he was a filial son and a true friend; kicking off his shoes for the four attractions, he forgot both love and attachment. Letters and messengers from relatives and friends were kept sealed and unopened; keeping grief and sorrow to his inner heart, he restrained himself from attending their funerals. He often said: 'The Way and the secular are different; since Udāyin personally received the voiced instructions, would one rather practice his words while neglecting his teachings?' His afflictions were cast off completely, vanishing without a trace. In his engagement with the Daśabhāṇavāra-vinaya, from Wuxing to Jianye, he lectured more than forty times. He composed eight fascicles of explanatory notes, concisely clarifying the regulations; scholars transmitted them, deeming them peerlessly sublime through all antiquity. His age was seventy-two. In the third year of the Yongyuan era of the Qi, his spirit departed at Anle Temple in Jiankang County. Monks and nuns flocked in great numbers, as if having lost their elder brothers and sisters. Truly, it was what is called faith without words and resonance without calling. As for dwelling in reverence and acting with simplicity, joy and anger never appeared on his face. Knowing others, he guided them well, distinguishing and selecting without overlooking anyone. In facing wealth he was incorruptible, and his taking and giving were righteous; he was clear and trustworthy, upright and magnanimous, remaining unchanging when facing adversity. Profound and imposing! Mount Bo, Mount Jie, the Yellow River, and Mount Hua could not measure his capacity. Truly, was he not a model of pure practice and a rule for calming the mind? His disciples, grieving that the ridgepole has collapsed and lamenting that his virtuous voice is forever silenced, set forth this faithful record with evidence, hoping to transmit his fragrance without shame.